Telephone
by Harmony Remarc
Summary: Just a lighthearted oneshot. You all know the problems that happen when words are changed slightly, like in the game of Telephone.


**Written in respone to Brunette's challange requiring the phrase "Since when does Race wear knickers?"**

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The Duane Street Lodging House buzzed lightly with bored conversation. The evening was bringing a welcome relief from the summer's heat. Idly, Jack swatted a fly, wondering if excitement would ever come to their humble Manhattan home.

"Make way, make way, my little minions! It is I, the great Racetrack Higgans!" The vain proclamation barely caused an eye to turn of the newsies lounging about in the lobby. Feeling put out, the gambler muttered in a stage whisper.

"Fine then, if _nobody_ wants to hear the biggest news of the season, I'll just take my things and be on my way." Jack lazily rolled his head toward his friend, laying his cards face down on the table.

"Whaddaya talkin' about, Race?" The Italian smirked.

"So, you want to hear it, now?"

"Nah. I just wanna know if your bed's gonna be empty so we can let Itey and Snitch separate finally." Racetrack sniffed, insulted.

"Nice to know how much y'all care about the next up and rising film worker." He was disappointed to note that the room was still ignoring him. Giving his friends a superior look, Racetrack smartly walked over to Jack. "Next time you see this gorgeous mug, it'll be on one of them fancy movie credits!"

As the gambler sauntered out of the room, Kid Blink shuffled over to the leader.

"Hey, Jack. What was that crazy kid talkin' about?" Jack shrugged.

"Said something about workin' in the films." Kid Blink nodded and turned back to his previous position by Mush. Mush prodded his friend.

"Well?"

"Racetrack is gonna be in the movies." Kid Blink's eyes grew wide as he realized what he'd just said. Mush let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Racetrack? Our Racetrack?"

"S'what Jack said!" Mush groaned and stood up. Pushing open the front door, he sat on the front steps, pondering the latest development. As he imagined Race grinning for a fancy camera, Mush began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Skittery growled, walking up to the lodging house in the fading light. Mush snorted again before replying.

"It's Racetrack." Another laugh escaped him.

"What about 'im?" Skittery asked impatiently.

"He's gonna be in the flickers!" Skittery looked at his fellow newsie dubiously.

"Right…" Mush shrugged, and Skittery continued into the lobby.

"So what's this I hear about Racetrack?" he demanded as he walked in the room. Unlike the man being spoken of, people glanced up when Skittery spoke.

"What are you talking about?"

"Mush… he said that…" Skittery realized how ridiculous his news would sound. "Never mind," he finished.

Snoddy stood up and walked over to the grump. "Said what?"

"That…" Skittery lowered his voice to a mumble. "That Race was gonna be in the flickers."

"That Racetrack doesn't wear knickers?" Snoddy repeated loudly. "That's old news. Since when _does_ Race wear knickers?" Skittery glared at him.

"Racetrack. Is. Going. To. Be. In. The. Flickers." He enunciated each word. Snoddy's eyes grew wide in mock amazement.

"What? Our great gambler has _finally_ been discovered? I'd thought this day would never come!" Snoddy shook his head. "I can't believe you fell for that. I mean, really." The rest of the newsies, though, apparently did not share Snoddy's cynical opinion of their friend.

"Race? Really?"

"That's amazing!"

"I wonder if he can help me to meet that gorgeous blond?"

"I can't believe that Racetrack's gonna be famous!"

"Where is he anyway?" All eyes turned to Jack, who was staring back at them with wide eyes.

"You mean he was serious?" He asked incredulously, looking up for the second time that night from his card game. "He said that he was gonna get his stuff and… RACETRACK!" Jack shouted his name. The man of the hour poked his head down the stairway.

"Somebody call?" He asked smugly.

"Get down here!" Jack demanded. The Italian complied, strutting importantly down the stairs.

"You were serious? You actually are going to be in the movies?"

"Of course! Why, in only a couple of years, I might get to the position of being a gopher!" Jack looked at him excitedly, but was puzzled.

"What do you mean, a gopher?" The entire room was paying rapt attention, waiting to see what the soon-to-be-famous man would say.

"You know!" Racetrack exclaimed. "Go for this, go for that… I mean, I'm only starting out as a clean-up crew, but you just wait!" He looked around the room, confused at the groans coming from his friends. "What? You fellas didn't think I'd actually be an _actor_, did you? Guys? Guys?"

The Duane Street Lodging House buzzed lightly with bored conversation. The evening was bringing a welcome relief from the summer's heat. Idly, Jack swatted a fly, wondering if excitement would ever come to their humble Manhattan home.


End file.
